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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772726">I sing the body electric</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/10redplums/pseuds/10redplums'>10redplums</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dragons campaign [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons &amp; Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons &amp; Dragons - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Poetry, Bonding, M/M, Oral Sex, what's better than teasing your lover NOTHING</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:33:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>918</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/10redplums/pseuds/10redplums</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When the love of your life is also a war hero, poetry about him is to be expected.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>player character/npc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>dragons campaign [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Banned Together Bingo 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I sing the body electric</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>listen, who hasn’t been stupidly in love enough to write poetry about the love of their life really</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>With the fullness of his life and the length of his career it’s no wonder that songs have been written of Sir Isteval’s strength, his valor. Hero, dragonslayer, champion. Doubtless more still will be sung after the battle with Tiamat by whoever survives, and Armand wishes he could be around to hear those. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With the breadth and depth of the mortal experience it’s also no wonder that there are entire odes written about his firm muscles, his beautiful eyes, his flowing hair. Armand isn’t surprised, he’d written some in his youth about other paladins, but he still laughs himself sick the first time he finds out. He memorizes several of the worst and teases Isteval about it relentlessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinks to himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>they didn’t do him justice. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since this quest began he’s learned to recognize the shape of conscious greed and sees it now in himself as he feasts his eyes on Isteval beneath him, kneels at the altar of Isteval’s body, at his hard planes and his long limbs and his storm-dark eyes, and as Isteval grins back at him he marvels that he’s been given this, been allowed this. That there’s a night in his life that isn’t stained by blood, that there have been more than one, that there may be more yet. He wants it all. He allows himself, for tonight, to want it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re miles away,” Isteval says, reminiscent of their first time, and just as before Armand laughs and lets Isteval pull him in for a kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was thinking of you,” he murmurs against his lips, and Isteval laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? What in particular, pray tell?” Armand allows himself a wicked grin as he pushes Isteval back onto the soft sheets and Isteval grins back, a boy again under Armand’s gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of how much I love you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Of all the poetry there is written about you,” he says instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Isteval says with a groan, laughing, dropping his head back onto the pillows, and Armand laughs </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What ails you, son? I’ll lay to rest/ these thoughts that plague you terribly,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Armand says, grinning, as Isteval rolls the two of them over and showers him with kisses in an attempt to get him to stop. His hair falls over his shoulders and Armand reaches up to touch his cheek. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh Father God, the world I’d give/ if he’d lay eyes upon me,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he adds, laughing harder as Isteval groans again. He gasps through laughter as Isteval grinds down, growing erect despite Armand’s efforts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>His silken hair, his shining eyes/ his lips, they’d make me holy,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Armand says through laughter and gasps, as Isteval continues to grind against him and undo the laces of his clothes. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh Father God, the world I’d give/ If he would lay beside me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you enjoy this poetry?” Isteval says, laughing, stroking a hand through Armand’s hair, and Armand grins. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love embarrassing you,” he says. How to explain? That the shared love that drives people to art bolsters and delights him. That it’s a shred of common ground with the people they’re fighting to protect, that beneath the power to level cities there is a simple happy fool in love. That Isteval is beautiful and deserves the world. He shucks off his shirt, instead, and throws it aside. He runs his hands over the planes of Isteval’s naked chest. Flips them over again and tugs, exposing Isteval’s legs and hardness to the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I would drink the sunlight from the goblet of his lips,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Armand says, pressing his mouth to the stem of Isteval’s throat- the trunk of his throat, really. Isteval beneath him is warm and solid and bulky, a bulwark instead of a confection of glass. Sweeter than a different confection. That one he’s not sharing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should put that clever mouth of yours to better use,” Isteval says, pushing him down, and he laughs and goes willingly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>In my hand I hold the two halves of the world,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he says, cupping Isteval’s sack gently and grinning as he gasps. Okay, that one’s a little too much. Isteval begs him to take him anyway, and Armand is his humble servant. Takes Isteval’s prick into his mouth careful of his tusks and drinks deep, as above him Isteval gasps and writhes and begs him for </span>
  <em>
    <span>more, more, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and as he licks him to completion he drinks down what Isteval gives him. In Armand’s mouth Isteval is heavy, and hot, and perfect, and Armand sighs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The force of his gaze is inexorable as the tides and I would drown, I would drown readily and happily if he would but bless me with a glance-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hang on,” Isteval says, kissing them to halt the flow of words, “this is Moonweaver imagery. Armand, did you write this?” He grins brightly, as if a child given a new gift. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you think it wasn’t written by one of the Wildmother’s?” Armand says, pretending loftiness. “Or one of the myriad gravediggers madly in love with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of them love me as you do,” Isteval says, laughing, pulling him back in for another kiss. Armand doesn’t reply, Isteval’s greedy tongue stealing any more words he might have had. Under the sun’s watchful eye, Armand will tell him yes. Armand’s spent time writing his own poetry about Isteval, once he’d come to know him as a man. Who could see him and not be moved? Isteval will understand. (Isteval will tease Armand relentlessly and Armand will let him.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>At first this was going to be straightforward body worship but then I thought actually wouldn't it be nice to be tongue-in-cheek and have Armand discuss the erotic poetry with him and also discuss it with himself in the narration, so. Here we are</p></blockquote></div></div>
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